Heart Monitor
by JEK623
Summary: Danny praises the fact that he doesn't have a heart monitor strapped to him, because he's pretty sure it would short out from the rapid beating in his chest. -Jack Danny. For animalkid99.


**Heart Monitor**

_A/N: For __**animalkid99.**_

_**Prompt: **__Could you write a Now You See Me fic where Jack gets hurt really bad during a show and he has to go to the hospital and Daniel freaks out causs he LIKES Jack? Please?_

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All Jack could feel was a pain in his gut.

Eyes still closed, he listened to the buzzing swarming around him, abusive smells hitting his nose, lights flashing bright colors under closed eyelids. He could feel his clothes being picked at quickly, the faint rip of his white buttonup, his leather jacket tuggled off his muscular form.

Fingers probed constantly, a violent rubber of surgical gloves snapping at his skin. Struggling, he tried to open his eyes, but soon, a cloth was pressed to his nose and mouth, and everything went black.

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The room was bland, and white, smelling thickly of antiseptics and cleaning products. Danny's nose burned, with watery eyes that he could only blame on the stained air. Henley Reeves and Merritt McKinney looked up at him from their twiddling thumbs, and the flip of their outdated hospital magazines.

"Danny," the redhead said his name calmly as she stood, wiping her leather gloves over the imaginary dust on her black dress, falling oh-so-greatly over her naturally perfect frame, "He'll be fine."

But there was a tint of uncertainty in her voice, as she watched him wrench away from her gentle grip on his shoulder and continue to chase his nerves out around the room.

Merritt leaned his head back against the dusty white wall behind his uncomfortable plastic blue chair, closing his eyes as Henley returned to her seat next to him, "Let him be." the older magician ordered her, adjusting his fedora.

"What if he can't perform?" Henley asks nervously, biting her onyx cuticles, her studded leather glove brushing her chin with worry.

"He'll be fine," Merritt announced loud enough for Danny to hear, as he fanned a deck of cards through his shaking hands, "It was just a gash-"

"_Just a gash?_" Danny turned to Merritt, cards falling to the floor as he stared into the elder magician's inquiring blue orbs. "He was _shot._"

Truth was, it was an accident. Jack, being the smartass he was, thought he could catch a bullet - _a bullet - _and asked a tech to help him practice, when the idiot aimed wrong and shot him in the stomach.

"Yeah, and I know that he'll be fine." Merritt snapped back, "Doc said it hit him clean and that he'll be fine after a few days of rest, and _a lot _of pain meds."

Surprisingly, Merritt was calm, spite his jiggling knee and the continuous adjustments to his hat. Closing his eyes, the older magician leaned back, breathing deeply. Henley continued to flip through the list of boring magazines, until she just opted to playing solitaire on her cell phone until she, too, dropped off into a blank sleep.

It was around one a.m. when the doctor strolled through the swinging doors into the waiting room to find the three magicians. Danny was making another round of the chairs in the center of the room when the doctor whisked over to him and asked, "Jack Wilder?"

Nodding, Danny glanced at Henley and Merritt, who were sleeping soundly in their uncomfortable chairs. Henley was curled awkwardly, her feet on Merritt's lap, head hanging off one of the armrests; Merritt in a similar position, his head on her hip, feet balanced on the wall and top of the chair.

Chuckling, the doctor looked at them, too, "Would you like to see him?" Danny nods again, following him through the doors.

As the doctor lead him through the squeaky linoleum halls, he explained Jack's predicament and instructions to wellness again. But all Danny could picture was the scene on the stage, before they rushed him to the emergency room: the tech, shaking fingers still on the trigger; the blood pooling through Jack's white shirt, his leather jacket splayed out around him; dullness in his gorgeous eyes; Merritt hollering for help; Henley's dripping tears; Danny's fit of anger.

Shuddering, he followed the doc to the room, watching him drop his colorful chart into the bin outside his door. The man gestured to the thick, ajar door, "After you." Giving the magician a smile, he headed back toward the nurses station.

Jack's room was pale, dimly lit, with monitors scattered around, all connected to the magician.

Danny's dress shoes squeaking against the scuffed linoleum as he approached Jack's bed. The young magician was shirtless, -Danny had to lick his dry lips and swallow the feeling infecting his body to control himself- with a crisp sheet pooled around his waist.

Monitors branched out cords that snaked over his torso, some slithering under the sheet that was partitioning the rest of his cream skin from the air. The scruffy magician swallowed hard as his eyes trained to the white bandage tightly bound to the warm skin of his abdomen.

He found his fingers branding gently over the tape, feeling the dip of skin where his operation occurred. Glancing up, he saw the pink lips he'd fallen for spread into a small, serene smile.

Wrenching away, Danny clutched his hand as if he'd been burned. He watched Jack's head roll over restlessly. Shallow breaths fall from his lips as his long fingers flex, gripping the sheets. Eyes fluttering, Jack hums, and Danny wonders if he could make a run for it, when those gorgeous blue eyes crack open, drinking in Danny's hazy figure.

"Hey," Danny says meekly, voice cracking as he sits on the edge of Jack's bed, avoiding the snaking wires, "How ya doing?"

"Okay, I guess," the younger reveals, reaching up his weak arms to stretch. Danny praises the fact that he doesn't have a heart monitor strapped to him, because he's pretty sure it would short out from the rapid beating in his chest.

Jack's eyes slide across the room, down his bare torso to the white bandage, blood scratching through the surface slowly, "Holy shit."

"Yeah," Danny agrees, reminiscing the feeling of touching the bandage that was taut against the younger's skin. Timidly, he touches the gauze again, shuddering at the dip, "It has to hurt."

"Not now," Jack admits, eyes flicking up at Danny, who stared back, fingers still stroking the seeping cloth. Biting his lip, Danny watched Jack's eyes flick to his lips, then back, blue on blue.

Cautiously, the scruffy-haired magician reached to the back of the younger's head and crashed their lips together in a tangled kiss. Jack smiles, immediately moving toward Danny.

Jack's lips were warm and confident, licking the other's dry lips as he sifted across the sheets to press their bodies together. Danny smirked as he listened to Jack's heart hammer in his chest, pushing the ill one back into the stiff mattress, letting a hand run up his leg.

Danny almost jumped out of his skin when Jack traced his hand down Danny's stomach, cropping around his length.

"Excuse me?" A loud, redheaded nurse stormed in, as the two jumped apart, "Are you okay, Mr. Wilder? Your heart rate is hitting insane peaks and.." she drinks in the scene, her face reddening.

Jack stares Danny down, watching the latter straighten his wrinkled shirt and look at the floor. A dry chuckle falls from his lips as he turned to her, smirking, "I'm all good."

Yeah, Danny is really glad he isn't the one with the heart monitor.

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_A/N: Hope you enjoyed! I really enjoyed this prompt. Anymore? Let me know!_


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